Moving day

Monday, March 5^th, 2012

      Almost forgot again! This is certainly a sing of waning interest in blogging. Most likely cause? I've got a lot of other things going on this time around. I'm still learning to play bluegrass banjo, which is going well enough. There will be videos at some point when I can play through and entire song on camera and not goof up. Additionally, I'm pursuing more spiritual matters, training myself in sensory projection, which is astoundingly easy and interesting for me. Now I've somehow stumbled into the spirit realm and I am exploring journeying, which also seems to come quite easily. It amazes me how thin the veil between the worlds are. All of this while working 10-14 hour days. (not the last few days, but it is what it is).

      The biggest news of the day is that I switched trucks. Instead of waiting for them to fix the ProStar I had sometime around the end of the week, I moved into a Volvo 670. This is a cool model because you can stand up in it, and it has a second bunk to put extra stuff on. I dig on that a lot. The hood looks shorter and closer, and there are extra closets in this truck. The bed is narrower, but that doesn't matter much. I can sit up in the bunk without hitting my head on the upper bunk, so bonus.

      Sometime during the moving process I was standing between the trucks just observing how I felt. I didn't much like doing what I was doing. It is a mini-equivalent of moving your home. I thought about this some more, and the idea of going into another truck after this one did not really appeal to me. The idea of joining yet another company was certainly not on my mind in any favorable light. By most standards, I don't have a lot of stuff, but it still took me the better part of 2 hours to transfer all my belongings and get them arranged in the new truck.

      The simple fact of the matter is that I was becoming comfortable in that truck. The energy was familiar and inertia was setting in. It happens like that sometimes. I can imagine it happening with this job, but I know that it would not last. I really like the idea of being home more.

      Just as a heads up, I believe that my blogging is going to become less regular. I know. Think of the masses. Well, for all 4 people who read this, I'm sure that you all understand. *laugh * I find writing this less compelling at the moment than a multitude of other things, and I know everyone out there has lots of better things to do than read a blog about trucking by a guy they've not seen (for some) in years. To be sure, if something interesting or story worthy happens, I will be posting. In the mean time, I'll continue to find beauty in the ordinary aspects of life, and laughter in the serious.

A momentary lapse of reason

Sunday, March 4^th, 2012

      Well, it seems I did not write yesterday. Perhaps the job is getting to me. Or maybe it was the 3 hour long nap in the middle of the day that totally messed with my head. Suffice to say, I made it to the Edwardsville terminal, just outside of Kansas City (both of them).

      One of the main reasons for me to get down here was to have the shop fix my fuel gauge. Well that and the door. I got here sometime around 1030, I took my time and had a nice leisurely drive, because I could. It feels really nice to be able to relax and not be on a schedule. I drop my trailer and bring in the paper work for someone else to haul it away. I wash my hands of it. I scanned in the scale receipts for reimbursement, and they totaled to just under $50. Hehe. Ah well, at least I'll see that all back again.

        The next order of business was to check in with the shop. Well, it seems that a few techs called in sick yesterday. They were already short handed as it is. There is a flock of trucks waiting to be looked at. I took my nap in front of the garage doors waiting for the initial inspection. Apparently i really fell asleep, long enough for the shift to change. I had no idea how tired I was. I suspect not having coffee in the morning may have contributed to this. It is for the best really.

       The door is more or less fixed, but it seems the hinges are warped enough for them to want to replace them. The big issue is the fuel gauge, which will involve taking the whole left side apart and turning the tank around. I can honestly say that I do not understand it. Oh, and they won;t be able to even consider doing it until Tuesday. Guess I'm laid up here for a while. The upside of that is that once I am fixed, I'm sure to be moving right along with a load to some place far away, in any direction. That's the best part of being in the middle of the country. Stuff is going wherever you want to go.

      While they were looking at my truck, I spent my wait time talking the ear off a couple of other drivers who were in the garage as well. For the life of me, I can not recall what the hell I was saying, but I'm sure it was rather light and banal. Fun talking. Making silly jokes about nothing in particular. Small talk about being broken down and such.

      The terminal is a different story. I have only now escaped what feels like the crushing despair of the drivers' lounge. It is a low energy kind of place. Even the shop is. I wonder if the terminal manager knows anything about this. Each terminal has a distinct energy which I readily pick up on. I am glad for my banjo and my best friend to talk to (and the bears too!). In fact, Barnaby wants to hear some more banjo.

Keeping my word from the last post.

Tuesday, February 21^st, 2010

      Well, that time has come again. Once more I cast off the vestiges of a normal life and continue gallivanting across the country side as only a person without a permanent address can do. Well, not just any person without an address, but a truck driver specifically.

      Would that this notion were true. Today I woke up early to make effective use of the public transportation afforded by living in the Sea-Tac metro area. Things went rather well. I got to the terminal early enough, only to find that they did not repair the one specific defect on my truck that I asked to have repaired. On the upside, they should get the part tomorrow. The downside of this is that the part will; not show up until 1500. The upside to the downside is that I will get paid shop pay. So I suppose things work out in the end.

      In light of this minor miscommunication, I will not be telling a funny story about today. Maybe a short ironic one about how I moved all of my stuff back into the same truck I cleaned out the other day, but minor details. Realisticly, I am postponing this blog until Thursday, at which point I should be rolling again. Until then, best wishes to all!

Timely lessons.

Sunday, February, 5^th, 2012

      Man, I tell ya, these short days are messing with my head. I have all this extra time of late and I get to doing things. Time just zips right on by. Heck I was almost asleep when I realized that I didn't write yet. That said, the banjo is coming along nicely. My fingers just might be up for the task.

      So tonight I am in Boise, Idaho. I took the long way around this time, since my load was in Utah. Today's drive started about 0530 local time. I tried to go earlier, but my body was having non of that. Another restless night in the truck last night, something I hope to change by sleeping in tomorrow morning. Well, maybe until 8.

      Driving at night is great, for many reasons. No traffic, better able to focus, probably some other things that are less important. This morning was different though. Driving down the I-15 corridor one finds themselves driving along some valley floors. Mountains loom nearby. While the details are certainly not apparent in the dead of night, that seemed irrelevant this morning. There is something about the rough silhouettes or the rocks. A deeper black tear, hewn from a deep inky blue fabric, speckled with stars. It was certainly a sight I wish I could have enjoyed longer, but you know, eyes on the road and all.

      Picking up my load in Ogden, UT, I noticed the trailer was overdue for a federal inspection. Certainly not a serious offense, but no sense in me getting a citation for it, so I drove down to SLC to get that taken care of. you see, while it is still the company's equipment, ultimately it is the driver who bears the responsibility for such silly things like that. No permits? Driver needs to check that thing. Broken mudflap? Should have seen that on your pre-trip.

      The quick lane in SLC certainly lived up to it's name. They simply walked around the trailer, took a cursory look at it, repaired a tail light and I was off again. I may have been more concerned about this had I not felt like I needed to rush, which upon reflection I did not. I'm not even sure if they checked the brakes. To my knowledge, the brakes are fine, and within tolerances. I'm just saying that I don't think they even looked. Still, it was satisfying to get out of there so quickly. The energy in that terminal is not something I care to wallow in. It just feels really negative.

      I suppose I could work to turn it around, and I do my small part. I have realized recently that I can only do what I can do, and most importantly, I can only change how I am. My trying to fix the world around me will, in the end, have less impact than fixing the world within me. For as I change my inner world, the way I see the outer world changes, and my circumstances change based on my new perceptions.

      While the above has nothing to do with trucking directly, it certainly has been a product of all the time spent behind the wheel. Here you are mostly powerless to change circumstance. Dude cut you off? Yeah. Happens all the time. You can accept it or resist it and get all angry at something beyond your control. Lots of little practical lessons. It certainly flexes those non-attachment muscles.

      Trucking has also helped diminish my sense of self-importance. A very useful tool for the kid who had to be the best at everything. I seriously doubt if many people from High School would even recognize me these days. Or even college for that matter. Driving down the road for so many hours a day, one begins to realize that other people have stuff just as trivial, or as important to do as you have. No sense in getting bent out of shape because you need to break your cruise control. you'll always get there in the end.

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Taking a leave of absence and the little bits beforehand

Monday, December 19^th, 2011

In honor of this festive time of year, I will be taking a respite from the blog during the holidays. I'm doing this, not to honor any particular tradition, rather because I am taking a break from driving for a bit. I will be switching companies so that necessitates another orientation, which is not really driving. Should events change, there will be an update, but not likely.

      I woke up confused face down and partly drooling. Par for the course I suppose. A lot of things happening. I had to get the windshield replaced, and get my ECM reflashed. Sounds technical I suppose, but what it really means is that my on-board computer needed an update. So I get myself dressed and walk over to the shop. I talk to El Dude-a-rino about the whole situation. He informs me that this will be an all day event, and that they will come to collect my truck after he makes some phone calls. Total bummer. I'm still under the impression that it would be a quick fix, and that I would be taking my home time in Pacific, Washington today.

      So I go back to my truck and fix me some breakfast. No rush, right? they'll come over and get the truck and take all day, so I'm just going to enjoy the oatmeal. Then this glass replacement guy comes driving into the yard. I wonder if he's looking for my truck, since it has this crater in the driver's side windshield that the shop said they would take care of but hadn't yet for some reason. Not much suspense here, but of course he's looking for my truck. A friendly chap with tattered pants rugged from many long days of working with glass. I help him pop the hood since it is a bit tricky, and he gets to work. Sometime during the whole process, another driver comes walking by. When I say “sometime during the process,” I mean the exact moment he is taking the new glass out of his van with those cool suction thingies and getting ready to set it into the now gaping hole that my face would sit behind were I driving. Back to the truck driver. He comes walking by and says, of all things, “Don't break it,” to the young man replacing the glass. The young man responds, “I won't.” To his credit, of course he didn't. He wouldn't be doing that job very long if he broke the replacement windshields all of the time would he?

      Later, as he is finishing up, I get out of my truck. I walk over to him at a slow mosey. “Hey buddy. Has there been a single day in which some smart assed driver hasn't said 'Don't break that?'”

He just kinda looks at me, rolls his eyes back to the recall position (top right) and droops his head. “No.” At least he smiled about it all.

      Then back to the shop where they see that the windshield guy has finished and they then call the Freightliner dealership to see if it is ok for me to bring the truck, which it is. Awesome! Totally get a much better turn around time if I take the truck over. Which I do. Simple drive, a fairly uneventful 25 minutes. I sit in the lounge waiting for them to do what was supposed to be a 45 minute job. Well, I have no idea how long it took, since I spaced out and they guy in the lounge next to me was watching some manly drama show on TV. American Choppers, I believe. A show about two grown men being all dramatic, angry and emotional, (or childish) but it is ok since they build motorcycles. It is essentially a macho soap-opera. 

 

      At some point, I decide to get up and go see what the hell is going on. It feels like it has been a while, and I want answers. As I walk into the office, I see that the service desk dude is on the phone. That's cool. I'm patient like that. Turns out he was on the phone to my company, telling them that my truck was finished and just checking to make sure that they could release it to me. Intuition at it's finest. Then off to get myself home after some minor snafus with communication that don;t bear mentioning really. Just glad to be done.

Nail biter

Tuesday, December 13^th, 2011

      Another day spent in the shop. At least this time, I got my truck serviced. Fear not friends, for the day was not a complete loss. I did get to deliver that load to just a bit up the road.

      I awoke today at 0545. I figured that one and quarter hours was enough to get a reasonable breakfast-like meal in, and make it in time for my 0700 appointment time. Grabbed myself an organic apple from the bag I bought, and happily crunched away. The pre-trip inspection didn't turn up much of anything, but I imagine that this is due to the fact that I wasn't looking for anything that could be wrong. It becomes a matter of course for most truckers to do a simple walk around and check to make sure that all of the lights are working. Sometimes, I'll even check to makes sure the tires are properly inflated, but that is when I feel like doing so would be a good idea. For the most part, a driver can tell when the truck is running funny, and maybe now and again get a bug up their butt to do a complete pre-trip inspection.

      Grabbing some coffee and making a new pot to replace the one I emptied (it was almost gone to begin with, I did not drink the whole thing!) I hit the road at 0615, figuring that half an hour would be plenty of time to drive the 10 miles to the consignee. Apparently I was mistaken. The traffic on WA 167 is a bit thick at that time of morning. I knew that was coming though, but it just took me by surprise at how much there was. Maybe it has to do with that “Boeing” company having a plant in Renton, on the north end of 167, but who's to say?

      I've never been to this place, so consequently, I have no idea what my turn looks like. I have a vague idea of where to go. That is a prerequisite for driving trucks, a good sense of physical direction. Mental direction, on the other hand, is certainly optional. I see a lot of people get sucked into this lifestyle for lack of other ideas. Honestly, I'm becoming a bit worried for my own sake, but I digress. Driving along 212^th ave S (west bound) I start looking for 59^th Place in the dark. This is par for the course, and I am exceptionally grateful for my excellent vision. Seeing signs from far enough away to turn in time is a good thing to be capable of.

      The last bit of the directions read thus: “Facility on the left, follow 'Columbia' signs to the back of the building for receiving.” Fairly typical once again. Often times, there will be a note saying something about distance, or other landmarks. “Second driveway on left after railroad tracks.” “1/2 mile down road on right.” “Directly behind burning bush, do not ask bush for directions.” Traveling down the road at a cool 15 mph, time is running short. Heavens forbid I show up even 2 minutes late!

      I, in fact, show up an entire 3 minutes early, which is still technically late, since it is ideal for them to be unloading you at your appointment time. In the end, it didn't really matter on lick. I got the impression that they would have taken me anytime before 1400. It took them all of 2 hours to unload the beer from my truck and sort out all of the PO numbers. Apparently, there were 15 of them, which is a whole lot of work or something. Beats me. I was just glad to get back and into the shop after all of that nail biting for nothing.

Down, back, and into the Shack

Monday, December 12^th, 2011

      Back again in Pacific, Washington. This time with a purpose. After having put off my truck service to complete the last run, I am now so far over the suggested time to have all that stuff done that there is no choice BUT to do the service. So I wait. Not impatiently, but with a kind of feeling that this is what needs to happen. I'm getting all my ducks in a row for the impending job change and my brief time in between companies. Today was quite busy in fact, I'll relate.

      So first thing this morning, there are all these blinky lights on my dashboard telling me that something is up. I already know this. I'm low on DEF again. Why the amber check engine light has to get involved in this matter is beyond me. I'd start the truck up, and the engine light would come on. There is a little amber light actually shaped like an engine, It seems to come on a lot, and I've not bothered to give it much notice because of this. I suppose I could research the light's meaning in the operator's manual, but nothing has gone wrong thus far. (knock on wood right?) The amber check engine light is also shaped like a little engine, but has the word “CHECK” written on it in all caps lock fashion. It isn't as if I see the waring light on the DEF gauge... or maybe the meter right below the warning light is down to one square that is now amber. (There are four squares on this gauge, all in a neat line. When all is well, they are green, but the last one turns to amber then red if you really drop the ball). I am well aware of my situation. You'd think drivers weren't people to check their gauges or something, geez.

      Quick resolution to that issue, then south to Seattle. I timed it well enough to avoid the thick of traffic, so, hooray for me. I suppose i could have figured out how to get there from the signs on the freeway, but I judiciously decided to follow the directions, as I've never been to this place before. the address is 4050 E. Marginal Way South. It makes sense I suppose. turns out I had to go North on East Marginal Way South, but I was on the right path. Building numbers were counting down... 4680.... 4524... 4490. Then I get to this one traffic light and stop. I figure I got 3 more blocks before I REALLY have to start looking. Passing through the light, I happen to look over to my right and check the building number.. and I'm not kidding “4360-4050”. The entire building was all of those numbers. I figured I'd drive along a bit more and that there would be an entrance. Nope. Well there was, but it was for cars and it would require a turning radius similar to a Smart-Car to get in there. But wait.. it gets better. I see that under the bridge that has sprung up to my left, in the middle of the road I was on, that there is a way to turn around. And railroad tracks. Glancing right, I see a locomotive. Lights on, but it doesn't look like it is moving, so I cross the tracks. Let me tell you how much it scared the wits out of me when I heard that horn blow. I was rather lucky in that the train was moving wicked slow, and that I had space ahead to pull up. So I watied a good 15 minutes for the train to go by.

      In the meanwhile, I call to let the warehouse I just passed know that I am essentially there, just waiting for the train to go by so I can turn around. No answer. I leave a voice-mail. So i get out to see where the heck the train ends, because a bridge support pillar obstructs my view. Cool, it is almost done. Heading back to the traffic light, I get a call from the warehouse. Turns out that they aren't even receiving loads today. Or tomorrow it seems. Must be swamped with old cardboard. So back to the terminal for me. Time to put the truck in the shop, scan all of my paperwork, thank the payroll ladies for saving my butt last week, fill up on DEF, replace the stolen tire chain, fix the broken one, get my filthy truck washed, walk to the library (1.5 miles) to copy my driver's license to send to the next company, walk another ½ mile to fax it to them, then back to the terminal to do almost ALL of my laundry (it's been a while), shower and finally relax and practice the banjo. All of which, I've done. Now I've just got to deliver a load tomorrow morning.

      The load is only going to Kent, a stone's throw away, but it WAS followed with a load to Edmonton, which was based on the idea that I was going to be out of the shop tonight. Since that is not going to happen, I'll pull the short load, then get back in line for my truck to be serviced. Ah well. All the bitching in the world isn't going to fix things, so I let go and accept my situation. And some sleep. I'm beat.

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